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ELLA 

FLATT 

KELLER 





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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



THOUGHTS FOR THE 

TWILIGHT HOUR 



BY 
ELLA FLATT KELLER 




:•> J 



THE LIBRAHY OF 
CONGRESS, 

Tvv/o Cojjies Recaivtit 



P635a[ 



! SEP 28 I5i« I p~ rn 

CLASS ^^ XXc, No I ri ri •>. 

COPY B. a 



From the Press of 
The B. F. Wade Printing Co., 
Toledo, Ohio. 



THIS LITTLE BOOK 

IS LOVINGLY DEDICATED 

TO MY MOTHER 



CONTENTS. 

Twilight in June, -...-... 7 

Twilight in Winter, - - 8 

Lullaby, .-----..-. 9 

Patience and Waiting, -- 10 

June, Queen of the Roses, ------ n 

The Morning Hour, 14 

Reverie, -.-.------15 

Her Eyes, -.. 17 

Daisies, -.--.-.---18 
Apple Blossoms, -_-----. ig 

Success, --:- 21 

A Fern, -- 23 

Violets, 24 

A Comforting Letter, ------.25 

Easter, -.--------27 

Little Things, -- 29 

Our Friendship, - - - -- - - - 31 

The Boy Who is Liked, ------ 33 

Good Morning, ---.-.-.34 

IN LIGHTER MOOD. 
Olives, -.----..--37 

Pretty Places, -.---_. -29 

At the Cottage, --..---.41 

Traveling, - - - - -- - - - 42 

Sweet Clover, ---------44 

The Way Girls Study, - - - - - - - 46 

Fishin', -.--_ 48 



7 
TWILIGHT IN JUNE. 



The brook on the edge of the forest is shaded, 

The sun has just taken the shadows away, 
The banks are all arbored with grapevines and willows 

Where sunbeams sift through on the water to play ; 
There seems a strange hush in that deep-tangled 
forest, 

And not only there, but wherever you go, 
For Nature has paused to look up at the heavens, 

All blending in colors, the sky is aglow; 
See first the bright tints of the sun's parting smile. 

Then fainter and fainter, — they vanish so soon, 
There's nothing so peaceful, so calm and delightful. 

There's nothing that's grander than twilight in June. 

The day that was laden with sunshine and joys. 

With cares and with sorrows which cause us to 
grieve 
Has gone. And how gently yet swiftly comes twilight, 

The silent, the holy, the beautiful eve. 
The birds seem to twitter a sweet lullaby 

While flying about in the soft, fading light; 
The flowers waken early, — at close of the day 

They breathe a short prayer and then say, "Good- 
night." 
The air is so dewey, so fresh arid so sweet 

With whisperings from heaven, where now dwells 
the moon. 
There's nothing so peaceful, so calm and delightful, 

There's nothing that's grander than twilight in June. 



TWILIGHT IN WINTER. 



When winter days have shorter grown, 

When come the long-houred, peaceful nights, 
We lift our eyes and then behold 

The splendors of the Northern lights. 
The wind keeps back its frosty breath 

Which made those convex drifts so high, 
Which sent snow powder in the face 

Of each and every passer by; 
And now a quiet rests on all, — 

The whole world seems so pure and white, 
Our thoughts are pure and helpful ones 

At twilight on a winter's night. 

The sleigh bells ring across the snow 

And mingle with the voices sweet. 
There comes a pleasant creaking noise 

As whiteness crunches 'neath the feet. 
The cheery light from moon and stars 

Which soon from heaven's field wiU fall, 
Cannot reveal one speck nor stain, 

God's pure white snow has hidden all. 
The cares of day are lulled to rest; — 

We leave the fireplace warm and bright 
To breathe the air and feel the calm 

Of twilight on a winter's night. 



LULLABY. 

A murmur of lullaby, lullaby, 

Then slowly it carried the crib 
Away to the dreamland's shore ; 

The violet blue eyes had closed, 
Though smiles cam.e and went as before. 

The sunshine then peeped through the blind 
And brightened the room in a place 

Which left a soft halo of light 
To fall on the sweet baby face. 

A murmur of lullaby, lullaby, — 

It seemed to be out on the lawn, 
It came from a little green spray. 

A bird gave a solo on "Fairies," 
Then twittering, fluttered away; 

At twilight this sweet serenade 
The mother had heard, and she smiled, 

Then kissing the soft dimpled cheek, 
Stood watching her own sleeping child. 

A murmur of lullaby, lullaby, — 

The fairies in dreamland stopped dancing 
And listened from all o'er the land, 

Till baby let go of the daisies 
He tightly had held in his hand ; 

I know that the angels paint pictures, 
And this one they always will keep, 

A picture of baby and Mama 
Watching her darling asleep. 



10 



PATIENCE AND WAITING. 



When the twihght hour approaches, 

And the stars the heavens light, 
When the toil of day is over, 

Many thoughts may come at night; 
Thoughts that fill the heart with longing, 

For the busy hours now gone 
Did not bring the things we hoped for 

Though we watched till set of sun. 

While the things we long and pray for 

Miay be things God won't deny, 
Yet, because of love and wisdom. 

We must wait till bye and bye. 
While we wait we may be serving 

Though our part be very small. 
Simple, homely little duties 

May be needed most of all. 

God is patient with His children. 

Often grieved, but waiting still. 
Giving what to Him is wisest. 

Teaching us to do His will. 
Every longing is a prayer, 

God will answer it some day, 
Not, perhaps as we would have it. 

Surely in a better way. 



11 



JUNE, QUEEN OF THE ROSES. 



■'What is so rare as a day in June?" 

Can you read from that poem by Lowell 
And yet not be inspired by the thought ? 

There is something that touches the soul 
As does music. And still it is true, 

No description, word-painted, no dream 
Has the power to tell us the things 

We may see on the banks of a stream. 

And no artist can paint perfect landscapes, 

For his work is completed too soon. 
He has never brought out all the beauty 

That is given to Nature by June. 
As her dress is all figured with flowers, 

A most beautiful wreath shall she wear. 
We shall crown her. The Queen of the Roses, 

There was never a queen half so fair. 

In the fields, in the woods, by the roadside. 

Where the blackberry vines are found growing, 
Where the ivy is climbing the old rail fence, 

And the children are coming and going, 
Where the birds are all singing so sweetly. 

The air's fragrant with flowers that grow, 
And it comes from the blushing wildrose 

As it sways in the breeze to and fro. 



12 

In the park, on the lawn, by the lattice, 

In the greenhouse, there's trained with much care, 
The LaFrance, the American Beauty, 

And the china, and moss rose so fair; 
If you speak in the language of flowers 

And then ask what it is that they say. 
The sweet voice of the rose kindly asks you 

To thank God for the flowers when you pra}^ 

This was Whittier's favorite flower. 

So his friends, to surprise him one day, 
Brought him all they could get at the greenhouse, 

Till they fell like the showers in his way; 
And it must have meant much to the poet, 

For his thoughts were as pure as the rose, 
And his life was as sweet as their perfume. 

And as gentle as a breeze when it blows. 

And whenever you look at a rosebud 

Look for thoughts that are pure and are true, 
You will see them between the sweet petals 

As you see the small drops of the dew ; 
May our lives then reflect all their beauty. 

For the roses we know are a token 
Of the love that God has for His children. 

And many the thoughts they leave spoken. 

From the time that the stars usher morn 

Till the heavens are lighted at night, 
It is all like the dream of a landscape 

That is dimpled with sunshine so bright; 



'Tis the annual ball of the roses, 

It has taken much time to prepare, — 
All the birds had to practice in orchards, 

All the clovers decide what to wear. 

And caressed by the sun and the showers, 

The nasturtiums have grown by the wall. 
For the roses had sent invitations 

And had asked them to come to the ball; 
Now the poppies and pansies and lilies. 

And the maiden-hair ferns in the dale. 
Have come to see June, Queen of Roses, 

Then hail to the Queen, let us hail ! 



14 



THE MORNING HOUR. 



Take the time to sit down by your window, 

In the cool, quiet hour of the day, 
You can meditate best when alone. 

When alone you can read and can pray; 
And the richest of blessings in heaven 

Will be sent by the Father above, 
They will come like a sweet benediction, 

And your heart will be filled with God's love. 

Take the time for your morning devotion, 

For the day will bring many a care, 
And the strength you receive in the morning 

Will make burdens the lighter to bear ; 
For your life will be nobler and purer 

When in touch with the Christ life divine, 
From a heart that's sincere in its worship 

There will come the sweet thought, "I am Thine." 



15 



REVERIE. 

The last gold tint of sunset 

Still lingered in the west, 
When to the wide veranda 

She softly stole to rest; 
The mystic note of silence 

Was prelude to the strain, 
Then through the open archway 

There came a sweet refrain. 

In distance o'er the hillsides, 

And o'er the fragrant meadows, 
The soft and dreamy moonbeams 

Were pushing back the shadows ; 
It seemed but some sweet vision, 

A panoramic dream, — 
Like silver threads in emeralds 

Wandered rippling streams. 

In midst of misty grasses, 

By waters clear and wide. 
The daisies and the clovers 

Were growing side by side; 
O'er all the sky was bending, 

A dome of azure blue, 
'Twas lighted so to shelter 

The green fields wet with dew. 



16 

It would be hard to follow 

The maiden's thoughts that night, 
Her face was so expressive, 

Her soul sent forth its light. 
The reverie is sweetest 

That closes drooping eyes. 
And gives to one a peace, 

The peace that satisfies. 



HER EYES. 

Sweet girl, 

Her eyes are raised to heaven 

With pleading-, wistful looks, — 
It can't be told in stories, 

Nor pictured out in books ; 
I stand and look and wonder. 

And note how clear they grow, 
Her heart does often fill them 

With thoughts I can not know. 

Sweet girl, 

Her eyes with sunny smiles 

Are stars that light her face, 
O'er which the laughter flickers 

Like shadows keeping pace ; 
And oft those eyes are dreamy, 

And sometimes pensive, sad, — 
Neath heavy drooping lashes 

Come looks which make me glad. 

Sweet girl. 

Her head is bent so low, 

Her large dark eyes downcast 
Like petals lade with dew, — 

My heart is thrilled. At last 
A meek, soft, loving light, 

Half hid by tears that shine, — 
Sweet dreams when put to music 

Are even less divine. 



V 



18 



DAISIES. 

Goodmorning ! Goodmorning ! Goodmorning ! 

The daisies are nodding to you, 
They all look as fresh as a rain drop 

For early they bathed in the dew ; 
They whisper and nod to the clover, 

They sway in the cool morning breeze. 
They peep from the tall meadow grasses. 

They play with their friends, with the bees. 

Think you that the daisy is cheerful? 

This flower of gold and of white, 
Which smilingly, patiently watches 

To greet the first ray of the light ; 
The daisy tells us to be cheerful, — 

Perhaps it's a wee little warning, 
To watch, and never forget 

To smile, and to say a "Goodmorning." 



19 



APPLE BLOSSOMS. 



It is not through the beautiful Valley of Dreams 
With its vine festooned banks and its musical 

streams, 
It is not round the corner to quaint Fairyville 
Where the Fairies and Brownies are dancing 

quadrille, 
It is not with a boatman on Oceans of Sleep 
Using magical oars that will skim the great deep, — 
But it is to an orchard I wish you to go. 
Where the sweet scented blossoms all whisper so 

low, — 
They will whisper and tell of the skies of warm June, 
Of the stars in the heaven, the great mellow moon, 
Of the bees, and the birds, of the nut bearing trees. 
And the songs that they learned from the soft, 

gentle breeze. 

'Neath the wide spreading boughs of the great apple 

tree 
All the air is aquiver with petals set free, 
And what beautiful tints ! not of paint or of dye, 
For they must have been chosen from God's fres- 
coed sky; 
The most delicate shades of a pink with the white. 
Just the color alone fills the heart with delight; 
Petals soft as the silk in the milk-weed pod, 
And they quietly fall to the out-stretching sod. 



20 

Little sprays of the buds and the wide open blooms 
Which are dripping- with fragrance, will perfume 

your rooms, 
And the great out-of-doors has been sweetened just 

now 
By the delicate odors from apple tree boughs. 

There is always more sunshine than shadow, and yet 
The wee blossom shares sorrow, — its face is oft wet 
With the tears which the eyes of the night have let 

fall. 
On the morn the sun kisses the tears, each and all ; 
There is always more sunshine than shadow, — it's 

true 
That the shadows have missions like tears, the 

night's dew ; 
And the love and the comfort the Father sends down 
Will kiss tears of our sorrows, give smiles for our 

frowns. 
May our lives be as bright as the fair apple bloom. 
For we too may cheer others and drive away gloom ; 
May our lives be as pure as the life of this flower. 
And our influence as sweet as its perfume, each hour. 



21 
SUCCESS. 

Would you have success? 
Then let your life a purpose have, 

A purpose never turned aside 
B}^ disappointments, trials and cares. 

By every movement of the tide. 

Would you have success? 
In preparation spend much time. 

No need to fear that it won't pay. 
For what great life does rest upon 

Foundations made in one short day? 

Would you have success? 
Unfold life's possibilities 

To greatest usefulness and power, 
As into fragrance, into beauty. 

The sun unfolds the hidden flower. 

Would you have success? 
Then seize the opportunity. 

Let perseverance be your friend, 
And if a cloud does pass your way. 

There's sunshine promised at its end. 

Would you have success? 
Observe then closely little things. 

Don't pass them by in search of great, 
For he who does the little things 

Will do the great ones ere too late. 



22 

Would you have success? 
Then count each day a Httle life, 

And be determined to succeed, 
Let each small life record a truth, 

A loving word, a kindly deed. 



23 



A FERN. 

Where rippling, sparking water gleams, 

Where flowers have wakened from their dreams, 

Where birds all sing a favorite song, 

And hop about the whole day long, 

Where grape vines reach from place to place 

O'er which the squirrels delight to chase, 

Where rustic canopies will shift 

To let the sunbeams through them drift; 

Where breezes come with tenderness, 
And give to all a sweet caress, 
Where every thing in such a scene 
Is holy, silent, pure, serene, — 
It often seems a silent prayer 
Is breathed for those who linger there, 
And right beside that violet blue 
The spicy fern has grown for you. 



24 



VIOLETS. 



There where the frost work was sparkling, 

Only a short time ago, 
Fringing the boughs with its crystals, 

Dropping its diamonds on snow ; 
Now all the birds are there singing 

During these bright sunny hours, 
Violets hear and awaken. 

Calling the sleepier flowers. 

There where the sun is just peeping, 

Mosses are growing so deep, 
Down where the water is rippling, 

Vines are beginning to creep; 
Wander in meadow, on hillside. 

Go in the green, leafy dell. 
Notice how quiet their life is, 

Visit the place where they dwell. 

Timidly, modestly hiding. 

Still you will know they are there. 
Though you may look but not see them. 

Sweetness will perfume the air. 
Many the lives like the violet, 

Having a mission to fill, 
Quietly work, unobserved, 

Trusting and doing His will. 



25 



A COMFORTING LETTER. 



She sat by the window at twiUght, 

Her face wore a shadow of care, 
It seemed she forgot all the sunshine 

That smiled on her life everywhere; 
It seemed she forgot that a sorrow 

Is nothing but rest in the shade, 
The bright, brilliant glare of the sunlight 

Will cause the sweet flower to fade. 

It seemed she forgot that a shower 

Is needed to clear the dark sky, 
When sorrow had fallen upon her. 

She sighed, and then wondered why. 
The years had been bright and so happy. 

The music was sweet she had had, 
But now it was changed to the minor. 

Though sweet, it was soft and so sad. 

She sat by the window at twilight, 

A letter was brought from a friend, — ■ 
It read she had heard of her sorrow, 

She had a sweet message to send. 
The tears filled her eyes as she read it, 

The sympathy, kind and so tender. 
Was precious, for with it was sent 

The sweetness that love has to render. 



26 

She felt that this friend and her influence, 

Her smile and her sweet winning way, 
Though she was not there to be with her, 

Did much as a help every day. 
Have you a dear friend who is lonely? 

Please write her some sweet words of love, 
Your sympathy helps her to bear it, 

Then speak of the Comforter above. 



27 



EASTER. 

All Nature is thrilled with its welcome, 

For see, at the break of the dawn, 
The snow and the ice of the winter 

Have melted away and are gone. 
The long-silent streams of the meadows 

Go tinkling and rippling away, 
The chirp and the twitter of robins 

Are telling they've come back to stay; 
A hinting of buds in the tree tops, 

A peep from the flowers in the wood. 

And all that has life seems to waken. 

As if it in truth understood. 
If Nature is thrilled with its welcome. 

Then surely the heart should respond, 

Resurrection gave promise to future 

In beautiful mansions beyond. 

Then ring, Easter Bells, Christ is risen ! 

For this is the message you bring. 

That Christ, though He died for the people, 
Arose, and is Saviour and King. 
We look at the pure Easter lilies, 

All dripping with perfume so rare. 
And wonder if angels in heaven 

Are choosine the lilies to wear. 



28 

If Easter then brings a glad tiding 

To all in this whole world of ours, 
We Christians should send with our influence 

A perfume as sweet as her flowers. 
The world looks for signs of Christ's living, 

Oh not from the thoughts that we give, 
But looks for the signs of His living 

In every-day life that we live. 



29 



LITTLE THINGS. 



To leave a sweet thought with another 
Whose life has had many a care, 

Will beautify duties they have, 
Make burdens the lighter to bear. 

To comfort the hearts that are aching, — 
Our sympathy they understand, 

'Tis told by the look of the eyes, 
'Tis told by the touch of the hand. 

Lend books that are helpful to others. 
Speak words that encourage the weak. 

Look only for good all about us. 
And emphasize this when we speak. 

Put trust in the one who has fallen. 
And believe he is sorry for sin. 

Judge kindly the deed of another, 

Knowing not of the struggle within; 

Send flowers to those who are suffering, 

A letter to one far away, 
Have greetings of love for the aged 

As well as the children at play. 

Be gentle, unselfish and thoughtful 
At home, — for right here is the test, 

'Tis easy to fret when annoyed. 

Give pain to the dear ones loved best. 



30 

Be courteous, loyal to friends, 
Be cheerful and loving and true, 

Let Christ be our Helper and Guide, 
And do as He wants us to do. 

And then will our lives be of service. 
For little things count which we give. 

It lifts us above our own selves 
To live as He wants us to live. 



31 



OUR FRIENDSHIP. 



We may not remember the first time we met, 

Our love grows the stronger as years steal away, 

There are hours in our lives we shall never forget 
For memory takes pictures from scenes of the day. 

The heart to heart talks give us strength, and inspire 
As they mingle and soften our joy and our care, 

From depths of our soul comes a deeper desire 
To sacrifice much, and help burdens to bear. 

We feel the bright gladness which shines from the 
face 

As we feel the warm air and the freshness of spring. 
Sweet looks from the eyes which no time can erase 

Will quiet unrest and a peace to us bring. 

Again, there are moments when words are not said — 
Though words may have music and sweet tender- 
ness — 

But smiling through tears, on your shoulder my head 
Feels the touch of your hand in a loving caress. 

To become a true friend is a matter not small, 
At times we must ask to forgive and forget. 

What comfort and help there is brought to us all 
By friends, who through love, can believe in us yet. 



32 

The value of friendship can never be told, 
No richer a blessing has God ever given, 

Pure love and affection do sweetly unfold 

Like petals of roses which blossom in heaven. 

What summer would be without birds, without trees, 
The whisprings from poplars and pines far above. 

No sunshine and flowers, no soft gentle breeze, 

So life would be, dear, without friends and true love. 



33 



THE BOY WHO IS LIKED. 

The boy who's polite to his mother, 

And shows that he loves her the best. 
Who offers her rocker and pillow 

When tired and needing a rest ; 
Who proudly will carry her parcels. 

And seeks her when wanting advice, 
The boy who will do what she asks him 

Without being asked by her twice; 
The boy who shows love for his mother 

And treats her the best that he can 
Is he who is loved and respected, 

The boy who Avill make a good man. 



34 



GOOD MORNING. 



The world has wakened, it is day, 
A bird sings by your window, dear, 

And as you Hsten to the notes, 

It calls to you so sweet and clear, — 
"Good-morning !" 

The sun just rising in the east 

Does send with every ray of light, 

One cheerful word, one greeting word 
That helps to start the world aright, — 
"Good-morning \" 

The clovers and the daisies fair 
That you see nodding by the way 

Repeat the salutation there. 
And to you they all do say, — 
"Good-morning !"" 

From the perfume of the flowers, 
From the little bee that hums. 

From the rustle of the leaves, 

From the laughing brook there comes,- 
"Good-morning !" 



IN LIGHTER MOOD 




37 



In Lighter Mood. 



OLIVES. 



Until you learn to like them, 

They taste most awful bad, 
And when 3'OU start to eat one, 

You wish you never had; 
So salty, and so bitter, 

So hard, so green, so small, — 
Your mouth is in a pucker, 

Can't swallow it at all. 

You know it's style to eat them, 

You taste them on the sly. 
Ashamed to say you hate them, 

You eat, till by and by 
Before you realize it. 

You think they are so fine, 
You want them for your luncheon. 

And every time you dine. 

You take them to the picnic. 
And to the County Fair, 

You linger at the grocery 
Because vou see them there ; 



38 

And even at a banquet, 

Or at a formal tea, 
You smile at sight of olives 

And don't take less than three. 

They are so appetizing, 

Their praises now you sing, 
They're juicy, rich and brittle, 

In fact they're just the thing. 
And when you once get started, 

Oh dear, oh dear me suz ! 
You can not get enough. 

You want them by the doz. 



39 
PRETTY PLACES. 



If I wuz but an artist, 

I'd paint you what I seen, 
Could do it with a shoebrush 

And canvas nice an' clean ; 
But when it comes to tellin', 

It sort of bothers me, — 
Its dry to study Webster, 

I never did, you see. 

The hills wuz big an' roundin', 

A crooked path crossed one, 
To go an' run way down it 

I think would be great fun. 
All round the trees wuz stickin', 

So keerless like, you know, 
It really looked artistick 

Ter see um scattered so. 

Fer some wuz there in bunches, 

An' some by twos and threes, 
An' some claimed underbrushes 

Which grew up to yer knees. 
I couldn't help but notice 

That way down 'tween those hills, 
A great wide stream wuz runnin', 

With ripples an' with rills. 

The water flowed real swift like. 
Until it reached the shade. 

And then 'twuz told to rest some, 
And surely it obeyed; 



40 

The branches of the willers 

Drooped way down o'er the bank, 

The fish bobbed up an' breathed, 
Then down agin they sank. 

The turtles sat on log's 

And slowly winked both 6)^68, 
The hull thing looked so peaceful 

That I wuz jest surprised; 
The sun wuz warm an' friendly, 

An' smiled on everything", 
Without one bit of coaxin' 

The birds came out to sing. 

It sounded nice to hear 

The buzzin' of the bees, 
To look eroun' an' see 

The flappin' of the leaves ; 
An' all eroun' the place 

There seemed a restful quiet, 
An' now I'm savin' money 

Ter see if I can't buy it. 

No matter what yer work is 

It truly is all folly 
To shut yerself right in 

An' never take things jolly. 
An' even when yer tired, 

An' want to git a rest, 
JevSt go out by yerself 

With Nature as yer guest. 



41 
AT THE COTTAGE. 



Did you ever rent a cottage at the lake ? 
Pack yer things an' carry all that 3^011 could bake? 
All yer fishin' tackle an' yer books to read. 
Leave yer work an' let it be to go to seed? 

That's the only way that you can git a rest, 
You don't have to dress up in yer Sunday best — 
Go an' take life cool an' have it served on ice, 
Jest enjoy yerself where everything is nice. 

Laugh, an' lounge eround, an' sit out in the shade, 
Talk an' read an' write an' drink yer lemonade; 
Appetite's alarmin' an' increasin' every day, 
Cooks may frown at you, but do not go away. 

Git up in the mornin', early as you wish. 
Row out in a boat an' rub yer eyes an' fish, 
Eat yer fish fer breakfast, tho' you caught but one. 
Oh! I tell you what, — it's double-jointed fun! 

When it gits real cool an' when the sun goes down, 
When the lights are seen like fireflies all aroun', 
Take yer music with you, row out in a boat, 
Play yer very softest as you gently float. 

Way off in the distance, forests nearly meet. 
Where between the spaces, tinted clouds may peep ; 
Can't tell how it's done, it's painted on the worter. 
Makes you feel so happy, way you always orter. 

Lake is jest the place to have a dreamy time, 
I will have to close, the rest won't make a rhyme. 



42 
TRAVELING. 



Then all aboard the east bound train — 

A scramble for the traps, 
The bulky lunch, the band boxes, 

The parasols and wraps, 
The bird cage, plant, and big valise. 

While things almost forgot 
At last are crammed in one large roll 

And tied with double knot. 

You must expect such things when you travel. 

When folks get settled in their seats, 

Their hats put in the rack. 
Then comes a railroad candy man 

To sell you cracker jack; 
He pokes it right up in your face, 

No chance to talk or read. 
He urges you to buy his gum. 

And popcorn gone to seed. 

You must expect such things when you travel. 

When plans are made to meet a friend. 

The train goes, — oh, so slow ! 
It stops at every little town 

As you have learned to know. 
You really long to mount a bike. 

And when you're in a rush. 
You can not help but feel 'twould pay 

To jump right off and push. 

You must expect such things when you travel. 



43 

Another thing we all enjoy 

When we are nearly there, 
To find that we must change our car, — 

What's worse, now I declare ! 
But walk around and see the sights 

While waiting for your train. 
Of course it often is the case 

You're caught in some nice rain. 

You must expect such things when you travel. 

You may not have to pay your fare. 

Conductors are so gruff, 
That when you hand them out your pass 

They tell you it's a bluff. 
And when the bridal pair come in. 

You're pelted with the rice. 
For hours they smile and whisper low, — 

Of course it's very nice. 

You must expect such things when you travel. 

At times you may be entertained 

By loud remarks of others, 
Who talk about their family quarrels, 

And high toned college brothers ; 
You look upon the passing scenes. 

The babies cry and scream, 
You can not get your window up 

And rest seems like a dream. 

You must expect such things when you travel. 



44 



SWEEl CLOVER. 



The violet hides its little face 

Behind the leaves and grass, 
But clover grows beside the road 

Where all the people pass ; 
Now some may like to see a fence, 

A few may like a hedge, 
The nicest trimmin' fer a road 

Is clover long the edge. 

Its blossom, oh so fine and white, 

Sends perfume in the air, 
The bees jest gobble all they can 

Then buzz eroun' an' stare ; 
And then becuz they see so much 

They don't know where to light, 
They sort of eye the prospect o'er. 

An' jest enjoy the sight. 

If those who can not buy cut flowers, 

An' palms an' ferns an' such. 
Will go where they will find no sign 

Of— "Hands off ! Do not touch !" 
An' get a bunch of clover sweet, 

Then think if they were rare, 
What awful prices would be paid 

To get their blossoms fair, — 

fLofC. 



45 



An' think how freely they are sent 

Along the sunny road, 
So they could get their perfumed flower, 

For that is why they growed ; 
I almos' know they'd like um more, — 

There's nufif to fill a page 
With thoughts a poet can not get. 

Philosopher, nor sage. 



46 



THE WAY GIRLS STUDY. 



They get their school books on the stand, 
As soon as dishes are all done, 

And plan to study good and hard, 
But feel much more like having fun. 

They open wide their rhetoric 

To page one hundred twenty-four, 
And yes, that essay plan to write. 

But hark ! there's someone at the door. 

Of course it's just a school girl chum, 
Who, happening to go that way. 

Had thought that she would stop a while. 
But really now, she could not stay. 

And then they talk a little (?) while, 
And what it all can be about, 

I'm very sure I can not tell. 
It is their lesson, I've no doubt. 

As great minds run along one line. 

They both agree 'twould be much better 

To walk down town and back again. 
For really they expect a letter. 

They get the paper, that is all, 

Then stop and only glance it through. 

But don't do that to rhetoric 

For they can plan to make it do. 



47 

While coming home they meet the boys, 
They walk about and serenade, 

At last they ask the party in 

To help them eat the fudge they made. 

Eleven o'clock, — their head aches so, 
They think of course they must retire. 

No use of essays any way. 
Unless it is to kindle fire. 

'Why is it then that on the morn. 
They tell the teacher how it was. 

And plead for time to write the essay? 

The reason why? "Oh well, — because." 



48 
FISHIN'. 



Got up before it got so hot, 
Then fussed eroun' an' ate a lot, 
Put up a lunch an' got yer hooks, 
Yer fishin' poles, an' story books. 

That great big hat, the one you made 
An' patented fer dandy shade ; 
The hay rack wuz the very best. 
You piled in there with all the rest. 

That's the way we did. 

Saw hungry chickens dig an' scratch, — 
An' when you spied the melon patch. 
An' all the apples, ripe and fair, 
You longed to stop, but didn't dare ; 
You went a joggin' up an' down, 
An' talked an' laughed an' looked eroun', 
An' watched the early mornin' dew 
Jes disappear from out yer view. 

That's the way we did. 

You walked through lanes an' fields an' woods, 
An' landed there with all your goods ; 
The lake wuz calm, the day wuz fine, 
You took yer pail an' bait an' line 
An' stood on rafts out in the lake. 
Oh me! oh my! but didn't they shake? 
Had hosts an' hosts of — skeeter bites, 
Caught lots of fish, jes sights an' sights. — 
But zve didn't. 



;p 28 1903 



015 908 672 ^ 



